


Somnium

by DictionaryWrites, Johannes_Evans



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Sleepiness, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johannes_Evans/pseuds/Johannes_Evans
Summary: Sleepy, cuddly moments.
Relationships: Marcellus (OC)/Genesius (OC)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22
Collections: Magic Beholden





	Somnium

Thunder rolled amidst the clouds outside, and Marcellus felt Genesius shift in his sleep, sliding closer on the delicate silk sheet of the bed, one harm slung low over Marcellus’ naked hip, his nose, his mouth, brushing against the base of Marcellus’ neck. 

“Are you sleeping?” Genesius asked, his voice a low rumble, nearly lost beneath the thunder’s distant groan.

“No,” Marcellus murmured, and he played his fingers through the long cascades of his master’s hair, feeling the silken threads slide over his palm, curl between each gently grasping digit. “The thunder is too loud.”

“Your heartbeat almost serves to drown it out,” Genesius said. His voice was slow and drowsy, imbued with some quiet daze that would be lost when he came to wakefulness, and Marcellus leaned in, catching Genesius’ lips beneath his own. The kiss was languorous, and still Marcellus’ head spun with the ease of it, now natural it felt that their mouths should fit together in such a way, now naturally Genesius’ body should touch against his own. “You would have me lay with you?” Genesius asked, slow and soporific.

“You are laying with me,” Marcellus replied. “Sleep, if sleep beckons.”

“You beckon more prettily,” Genesius mumbled, but even as he did, he fell upon his back, pulling Marcellus with him as a blanket, that he might fall upon his master’s breast, his face to the skin there, inhaling the delicate scent of it. 

“He says,” Marcellus murmured, “from his stupor.”

“Stupor?” Genesius repeated sleepily.

“Torpor, even. Lethargy.”

“Mmm...”

Marcellus looked at Genesius’ face, at the flutter of his delicate eyelashes as his heavy eyelids drooped close, peace slackening his aristocratic features, and oh, how beautiful he was, how enchanting... Laying his cheek against Genesius’ breast, he gripped the other tightly, and slipped after him to the land of dreams.


End file.
